


Christmas Eve Will Find Me

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-09
Updated: 2005-04-09
Packaged: 2019-05-15 21:04:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14797931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Some traditions are hard to break.





	Christmas Eve Will Find Me

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Christmas Eve Will Find Me**

**by: IDreamOfAJ**

**Characters:** CJ, Toby  
**Pairings:** CJ/Toby  
**Category:** Romance   
**Rating:** MATURE  
**Summary:** Some traditions are hard to break.  
**Author's Note:** This is my gift for Kimberly. Merry Christmas honey!!  
A special nod to Angie because she’s adorable and I think her printer may well hate me.  
(Title is from “I’ll Be Home For Christmas” by Kim Gannon & Walter Kent) 

She should be used to the snow. It’s not as if she hadn’t seen plenty in Dayton. But it’s different here. Somehow. Maybe it’s the color. In Dayton the snow is white as it coats everything in sight. Here, it’s almost gray, and the high piles where it’s been cleared from the roads don’t look anything like the mounds of snow ready to become snowmen.

She wants to go home. It doesn’t feel like Christmas here. Her apartment doesn’t look any different than it did two months ago, there’s no tree or wreath or sparkling lights. The few presents she has are on the coffee table, next to books that are overdue from the library.

She pulls the collar of her coat tighter as she makes her way down the street. She’ll call her family tomorrow. And she’ll try not to cry, at least not while she’s talking to her mother. She’s sure her brothers will be boisterous enough to keep the tears at bay. So lost in her melancholy she almost misses the brightly painted door.

The bell rings as she pushes it open. She stands for a moment, just looking at the paper lanterns and the red plastic booths as she takes off her gloves and unwraps her scarf. She realizes she’s the only customer. A wizened old man comes forward and smiles brightly at her. He welcomes her and leads her to the counter that must have been left over from when this was a diner of some kind. She takes off her coat and asks for a cup of coffee while looking at the menu. She hears the bell ring as she’s debating between the Moo Goo Gai Pan and the Mu Shu Chicken.

She doesn’t realize that the new customer is next to her until he sits down. She glances at him and looks back at the menu. The old man comes back and greets this man like an old friend. He must come here often. She takes a sip of the coffee as she waits for the two men to catch up so she can order. But, the old man disappears before she has a chance.

“If I asked you why you were in a Chinese restaurant on Christmas Eve, would it seem too much like a line?”

She looks at the man sitting next to her and sees the glint in his eyes.

“Yes. It would.”

“I thought it might. But you don’t look the type not to be somewhere celebrating with family or friends. And I thought maybe… .”

She smiles at him. He seems sane enough.

“Nope. Not this year anyway.”

They are interrupted by the owner who takes their orders at the same time. She turns in the chair so she can face her apparent dinner companion more easily.

“So, why are you here on Christmas Eve?”

“I’m Jewish. So it’s not my holiday.”

“Oh.”

“Why aren’t you wherever it is you’d rather be?”

“How do you know I’m not?”

“I can see it.”

She sighs. She’s never been good at hiding things, but she’d thought her despair was buried at least a little deeper.

“They’re in Ohio. I’m at Columbia for a year. And I couldn’t afford to go back for Christmas.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.”

The food arrives with a bottle of plum wine that neither of them ordered. And as they eat they talk about the city and school and politics and families and weather and almost anything else that comes to mind. When they’ve been there three hours and have finished the second bottle of wine, the old man smiles kindly as he explains that he needs to close up now. They apologize and both grab for the check. But, he’s faster and she lets him pay. He helps her put on her coat and he puts on his own as she’s putting the gloves back on. It isn’t until they reach the street that it occurs to her that she has no idea who he is.

“I’m sorry, I’m Claudia. Claudia Cregg.”

“Toby Ziegler.”

It isn’t until she gets back to her apartment that she finds the napkin with his phone number and an assurance that he knows a great place that serves breakfast even on Christmas morning.

~*~

“Claudia, we have food here you know.”

“I know.”

“Then I don’t see why you insist on going out. And you know how hard it is to save seats on Christmas Eve.”

She bends to kiss her mother’s head gently as she squeezes her arm.

“Don’t worry Mom. You won’t have to save seats. We’ll be there in plenty of time. Or, I will at least.”

She grabs her coat off the chair and goes into the living room to find Toby and her father engaged in yet another staring contest. She can’t understand how the two most intelligent men she knows could find nothing to talk about, but she’s not going to worry about it now. She kisses her father’s cheek and tells him she’ll see him at church. Toby grumbles slightly as she takes the keys to the rental car from him.

“I am capable of driving, Claudia. You understand that, right?”

“I do. But, it’s easier if I just drive. I know where this place is.”

He doesn’t seem impressed with the scenery as they drive to the restaurant. But she knows he’ll always be a city boy through and through. He does smile when they pull into the parking lot of the restaurant.

“It’s not Mr. Woo’s, but it’s passable.”

“He misses you.”

She knows that he means more than just Mr. Woo, but she can’t do anything about that until she finishes her degree. So she smiles at him and takes his hand as they enter Shanghai Gardens. Her smile is even brighter hours later as he stands with her in the back of St. Thomas listening to the Mass, even though she knows her mother will have something to say about their arriving barely in time.

~*~

The phone is cradled between her ear and shoulder as she pays the delivery guy. She shuts the door with her foot and takes the bag into the kitchen. She laughs when she admits that she did order Beef Lo Mein.

“CJ, you don’t eat Beef Lo Mein.”

“I know.”

“Then… .”

He stops the question before it’s fully formed. He sighs. He knows why she got it. And she knows that he knows. It should be an uncomfortable silence, but it is not. They hold too much value in the friendship they’ve salvaged to let awkwardness creep into their conversations.

“So, tell me about the snow Tobus.”

“You could see snow if you’d gone home.”

“Don’t start.”

“Okay. But I’m much more interested in hearing how warm it is there in Hollywood. Go ahead, rub it in while you have the chance.”

“I’m in shorts and a t-shirt. Does that help?”

The silence this time is more fraught with danger and neither is sure where to take the conversation from here. It’s too soon to joke about their past. And her mother’s death is still too raw. He wouldn’t dare mention her father’s new wife by name. So he turns them to safe ground, to politics. And he mentions that he’s heard about a new candidate that just might prove interesting. In Maryland. A woman to appease CJ’s devotion to the sisterhood. And they run up her long distance, but she can afford it now and so he just keeps talking. But he can’t bring himself to admit to her that his Lo Mein doesn’t taste the same, and that there’s an unopened carton of Mu Shu Chicken taunting him on the kitchen counter. 

~*~

She hangs up the phone and returns to her father’s dinner table. She says it was nothing important as she passes the roast beef to Emily. Five minutes doesn’t count as far as she’s concerned. Especially when it’s whispered explanations that he shouldn’t have to make in the first place. She looks at the mashed potatoes and thinks it a shame that they don’t go well with soy sauce. She smiles as sincerely as she can at Emily and listens to her brother and his wife discuss names for the baby that should be here by March.

He returns to his in-laws’ dining room and assures his new wife that his sister is feeling much better now. He tries to be pleasant and communicative with her parents. He does well when talking about Andy’s campaign, but he’s at a loss when the conversation turns to the latest party at the country club. Later, he turns away from his wife after telling her in no uncertain terms that he will not be going to church with them in the morning. This isn’t his holiday. He can’t tell her that if he were going to church it would have to be for Midnight Mass.

~*~

She looks at Sam with his puppy dog eyes and shakes her head.

“No. We’re getting Chinese.”

“Toby, tell her. We get Chinese all the time. It’s Christmas Eve, we should do something special.”

“Sam, we’re getting Chinese.”

“You guys are no fun.”

They smile and share a glance. It’s not the same, but it’s close. And they both feel the need to be there for Josh, though only she will be able to voice it. So they take Sam with them to the Chinese restaurant around the block from her apartment. And she swats his hands away from the egg rolls while they unload the cartons once back, while Toby rummages through her cupboards for the good Scotch he knows she’s hiding. And they all sigh a little with relief when Donna pushes Josh through the door and they can see his hand is bandaged properly. And that he’s joking about rectangles.

Neither says anything as the other three finally leave at almost four in the morning. But they both know that he’ll be running around trying to find a bakery open in the morning while she’s at Mass.

~*~

She grabs the turkey sandwich and the bottle of beer and heads for the couch. She turns on the television, and for once moves it away from CSPAN. She flips through until she finds the original “Miracle on 34th Street” and she’s glad to see she’s only missed about fifteen minutes. She allows herself the tears at the end of the movie, doesn’t try and stem the tide. She knows she’s crying for so much more than this. She’s crying for the stress and the pressure and the doubts and the man she would follow into the fire who may or may not yet be able to move his legs. She cries for the glimpse of understanding she has of the toll on Leo all these years. She cries for a father who doesn’t recognize her voice or her face. And for a man that’s on the other side of town struggling through wrapping paper and assembly required because that’s who he is now.

His call wakes her up hours later. He’s checking in and she wonders if he wants an excuse or a reason to leave, but she won’t give it to him. She knows that he needs this, even if he doesn’t realize it. And she won’t be the one to let him off that hook too easily. It isn’t until after she hangs up that she wonders if maybe, just maybe, he was really calling for her.

~*~

It’s cold enough to snow, but she knows that it won’t. It never does in San Francisco. The wind causes the window in the den to rattle and she cuddles deeper into the blanket. She feels old. So much older than she is. But she has a sense of accomplishment that she knows she wouldn’t have had if she hadn’t done it, hadn’t accepted the impossible promotion. And for the first time in years she relishes an actual Christmas vacation. She’s taken two weeks off just to enjoy herself. She thinks she might just go to D.C for New Year’s and surprise her brother. She sips her coffee just as the doorbell rings.

He’s wearing the same coat he’s had for years, but he looks older too. She wants to ask why he isn’t with the twins. Why he isn’t in New York. But she can’t get the words past the lump in her throat, so she gives him a watery smile before pulling him into a crushing hug. He kisses her temple and then forces them both back so he can shut the door.

“Toby?”

“There should be snow. You know, with the cold. But there isn’t. Don’t you find that slightly disturbing?”

“Not really, no.”

“You should.”

“Okay.”

He puts a brown paper bag on the entry table and sheds his coat. He takes the bag and leads her down the hallway, pausing to take in the layout before making his way to the kitchen. She follows, still not sure what this means, and too afraid to ask.

“Do you want coffee?”

“No, I want Scotch. Later. But, we can have wine now. You do have wine don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

She pours the wine for both of them as he watches her, his eyes inscrutable. He stands close and she can feel the warmth she’s missed for years. He grazes her cheek with a kiss before sipping his wine. She smiles.

“So, Toby, what’s in the bag?”

“Beef Lo Mein.”

“And?”

“Mu Shu Chicken.”

Her mouth is pressed against his before he finishes the words and his arms are snaking their way around her waist. The kiss is slow and filled with promise. She remembers this, and so does he. They stay that way for a lifetime which only lasts a few minutes. Finally they break apart and she hands him plates while he takes the cartons out of the bag.

Later she will help him bring in his luggage. She’ll assure him that she does know a place where they can get breakfast in the morning. And he will make love to her as if no time had passed since that Christmas day more than two decades before.

The End


End file.
